And inside the watches were engraved after the name of the watch's new owner:-- "From the Directors of the Northern and Southern Railway in grateful recognition of the courageous and prompt action which averted an accident on -- - 1905." The watches were the most beautiful you can possibly imagine, and each one had a blue leather case to live in when it was at home.
"You must make a speech now and thank everyone for their kindness," whispered the Station Master in Peter's ear and pushed him forward.
"Begin 'Ladies and Gentlemen,'" he added.
Each of the children had already said "Thank you," quite properly.
"Oh, dear," said Peter, but he did not resist the push.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said in a rather husky voice.

Then there was a pause, and he heard his heart beating in his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he went on with a rush, "it's most awfully good of you, and we shall treasure the watches all our lives--but really we don't deserve it because what we did wasn't anything, really.

At least, I mean it was awfully exciting, and what I mean to say--thank you all very, very much." The people clapped Peter more than they had done the District Superintendent, and then everybody shook hands with them, and as soon as politeness would let them, they got away, and tore up the hill to Three Chimneys with their watches in their hands.
It was a wonderful day--the kind of day that very seldom happens to anybody and to most of us not at all.
"I did want to talk to the old gentleman about something else," said Bobbie, "but it was so public--like being in church." "What did you want to say ?" asked Phyllis.
"I'll tell you when I've thought about it more," said Bobbie.
So when she had thought a little more she wrote a letter.
"My dearest old gentleman," it said; "I want most awfully to ask you something.

If you could get out of the train and go by the next, it would do.